


Safe House

by szm



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-28
Updated: 2012-03-28
Packaged: 2017-11-02 15:23:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/370479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/szm/pseuds/szm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Greg finds John waiting for him when he gets home</p>
            </blockquote>





	Safe House

It was well after midnight when Greg finally got back to his flat. Paperwork and red tape would be the downfall of society one day he was sure. There was a tight pressure behind his eyes that was promising to develop into a truly blinding headache if he didn’t get some sleep soon. 

When he got through the front door he discovered that hallway light was on, and he could hear the muffled sounds of the TV from the front room. Both Sherlock and John had keys to his flat, as he had keys to 221b but he’d text them both earlier to let them know he wouldn’t be getting away from the yard till late. It happened with depressing frequency, it wasn’t like either of them to turn up if they knew he wasn’t going to be there.

He pushed the door to the lounge open slowly. John was curled up at one end of the sofa under his own coat. He looked back towards Greg, blurry-eyed and half asleep.

“God, sorry, Greg. I honestly only stopped by for a minute. I just needed somewhere quiet to think. You must be shattered. I’ll get out of your hair,” he said as he realised Greg was home.

Greg crossed the space between the door and the sofa quickly. He lay a hand on John’s shoulder and gently eased him back down. “Don’t be daft, John. You’re welcome anytime you know that. Wait there and give me a minute?”

John nodded and gave Greg a soft almost boyish smile. The one that made him look almost _fragile_. Pretty much managed to make Greg feel ten foot tall and break his heart all at once. Greg smiled back and grabbed a blanket from the hallway cupboard and gave it to John taking the other man’s coat off him with a raised eyebrow. John knew where the blankets were after all. He could have easily got himself one. Greg returned to the hallway hanging both John’s and his coats up and toeing off his shoes. He padded back through the lounge to the kitchen and made drinks hanging his jacket on his one and only kitchen chair. Once the drinks were done he took them through to John. 

“Cheers,” said John with that smile again, taking both drinks so Greg could settle under the blanket with him. It took some shuffling but they ended up mostly under the blanket each holding a warm mug. Greg felt the warmth and pressure of John against his side and finally something in him started to relax.

“Horlicks?” asked John, clearly stifling the chuckle he wanted to let out.

“Too late for coffee and I’ve run out of tea,” replied Greg sipping his own drink. “Besides I like Horlicks”

“Yes, because you are secretly eighty,” replied John.

Greg gently knocked John’s shoulder with his own. “Enough of your lip, whippersnapper.”

John did chuckle at that and Greg smiled (probably like a dope, but there was no-one to witness it so it was fine). They drank their Horlicks while half watching some old black and white film, mostly Greg just enjoyed being _with_ John. Warm, and quiet, and safe. Not things Greg got very often with either of his lovers.

Eventually they finished there drinks and John shifted under Greg’s arm so his head rested on Greg’s shoulder. Greg happily wrapped his arms around John, he found himself stroking a small patch of jumper on John’s side.

“Aren’t you going to ask me why I’m here?” asked John eventually.

“Nope,” said Greg letting his eyes close for just a minute.

“Do you want to know?” asked John.

“Only if you want to tell me, sweetheart,” replied Greg, the endearment slipping out without him really noticing. John didn’t seem to either.

“Had a fight with Harry,” said John in a small voice.

“I’m sorry, John,” said Greg opening his eyes and looking at the top of John’s head. He felt John shrug.

“She was drunk,” he said flatly, like that explained everything. Greg pressed a kiss to John’s forehead. 

They must have fallen asleep like that because the next thing Greg knew he could hear Sherlock.

“Honestly, John! You always tell me how I’ll get a crick in my neck from sleeping on the sofa. And here you are. Still in your clothes even.”

Greg could feel John stirring. He forced his eyes open, the TV was off and there was very weak daylight creeping in through the window. 

“Sorry to worry you,” John replied to Sherlock, voice still rough with sleep. God that was sexy.

“I wasn’t _worried_ ,” said Sherlock, distain in his voice. 

Greg couldn’t help but smile. _’Yes, you were’_ he thought to himself. Out loud he said. “What time is it?”

“A little after five,” said John apologetically.

Sherlock glanced at them both then focused on John. “You had an argument with your sister, she was drunk, she said…”

“A lot of things she didn’t mean,” interrupted John firmly.

Sherlock huffed. “In a world of idiots, she sets standards even Anderson would be ashamed of.”

“She’s my _sister_ , Sherlock,” replied John in a weary tone that implied he and Sherlock had this argument a lot.

“Right,” said Greg, drawing attention to himself. “I want some sleep in a real bed, so both of you in the bedroom. I don’t have to be back in the office till half ten, so I can get in at least a couple of hours.”

Sherlock looked like he might argue for a second but them his gaze ran over John’s slumped shoulders and Greg’s face.

“Fine,” he said on an annoyed exhale. Sweeping off towards the bedroom, coat flapping round his legs.

“Bloody drama queen,” muttered Greg with a smile watching him go.

John stood and held out a hand to help Greg up. He reached for the blanket.

“If you fold that, Watson, so help me…” Greg said catching hold of John’s elbow and steering him after Sherlock. “Come on, way past time for all good Doctors to be in bed.”


End file.
